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Breakfasts from Mexico to Cuba, Belize and Guatemala…

A broken wrist followed by a phone lost down the great well that is a Guatemalan chicken bus makes for a poor attempt at blogging over the past few weeks. So as to save going back through a months’ worth of gluttony and poor personal hygiene in detail, here’s a round up of brunch spots from the Pacific coast of Mexico to the highlands of Guatemala.

San Cristobal, Zipolite, Mexico

Though only a short bus journey down the coast from Escondido, Zipolite felt like a different world altogether. Gone were the long-of-short and short-of-board surfers and Spandex clad Mexican tourists, replaced instead by ageing hippies, sleepy beach dwellers called Socrates and a handful (so to speak) of nudists.

Having checked in to the fabulously wonky Brisas Marinas hostel we ambled down the beach to San Cristobal, a restaurant providing shade and a book exchange for ever-pinking tourists. The menu was a mix of American and Mexican recipes, with hot cakes, fruit salad, huevos al gusto and mollettes all on offer. Fruit juices seemed to come from an entire watermelon shoved into a blender, and there was decent enough coffee (no mean feat here).

Duly sated, it was time to head back to our hammock for a strenuous day of lazing about – a routine we’d repeat for almost an entire week.

Carajillos, San Cristobal, Mexico

A couple of long overnight buses would transport us north, back to the mountains where the air was enticingly cool. San Cristobal is extremely pretty in a tourist-focussed way – one long vein of pedestrianised street runs through the middle, with all manner of ‘traditional’ artisinal crafts on offer.

There’s a pleasant hubbub around the town, with street sellers moving between tourists dressed in sensible shoes and newly-purchased ponchos. Though there are plenty of cool bars and coffee shops around, the poverty in the area is clear. Carajillos is part of this stark contrast, set apart from the main drag in it’s own private courtyard.

Inside the sun streams through the open roof, casting light on the tropical plants, orchids and parasols. The fashionably freelance come for excellent coffee, a modish lunch menu and free WiFi; elsewhere there are photo exhibitions and local paintings on sale.

They are somewhat snobbish about what they do – mottos rebuking sugar-takers can be found on their business cards – but the coffee is unarguably fantastic. Fully caffienated, we went back to join the stream of happy traffic outdoors, with a new resolution to spend our money on more local pursuits.

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Carajillo, San Cristobal

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Adele’s Authentic Mexican, Cancun, Mexico

Ah, Cancun. Seasonal playground for the rich and adolescent, filled to the brim with slogan T-shirts (I’M IN CANCUN, BITCH), tequilla deals and poor decisions. Mercifully we’d chosen to stay away from Playa del Carmen and opted for a hostel in the town itself; still busy, loud and incredibly hot, but with a slightly more local feel.

It was here that we found Adele’s, an excellent coffee stop incongruously placed slap bang on a motorway roundabout. Across the road music blared from a garage; two women danced in the midday heat in their pants, brandishing over-sized spanners in an attempt to entice truckers to make that famously impulse purchase, a whole new set of tyres.

Adele’s is no bigger than a wardrobe, with a sparkling coffee machine squeezed in the back. Coffee is taken seriously here (the beans are imported from Chiapas for the best blend) but it’s Adele herself who makes the visit worthwhile. Wonderfully welcoming and a little batty (no real surprise with a constant supply of espresso), she was happy to point our wayward Spanish in the right direction: we shared stories of home, a few photos and contact details before wending our merry way, resisting the strange temptation to buy a complete set of Goodyear’s.

Cafe Bohemia, Havana, Cuba

A short hop across the water from Cancun and we found ourselves in Havana. Busy, loud and passionate, we took a while to settle in to the new pace, eventually relaxing into the constant soundtrack of ancient car horns, offers for taxis, cigars, souvenirs… and, of course, live salsa.

The Old Town is full of crumbling buildings and darkened doorways leading who knows where. What appeared to be an abandoned townhouse would turn out to be a grocers or sometime hairdressers; elsewhere shops would be open with nothing on their shelves. A warren of streets wind together to meet around one of the many plazas, and it was in the most famous one – Plaza Vieja – that we stumbled across Cafe Bohemia.

Huge canopies shelter diners from the light in the blue courtyard, with vines and potted plants creating a Mediterranean feel. The staff are young and fashionable, and they have a menu to match: Illy coffee, continental breakfasts, an entire cocktail menu dedicated to gin (we’d be back for that). The ingredients were good, if the portions a little small; coffee came as a shot of espresso with hot milk and water jugs to make it to your taste. It’s not the cheapest, and is clearly a spot targeted at the comparitively well-off tourist. But with live music flowing in with the breeze, it’s a very pleasant one at that.

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Cafe Bohemia

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Carribean Colours Art Cafe, Caye Caulker, Belize

From Cuba we were back to Mexico, moving from Cancun down the coast to Tulum then Chetumal, known best as the departure point to Caye Caulker, an island in the Caribbean Sea off the Belize mainland.

Caye Caulker is reknowned for it’s clear, turquoise waters, excellent snorkelling on the second largest Barrier Reef and a laid-back attitude to just about everything. Still part of the Commonwealth, Belize is largely English speaking, meaning Brits and Americans flock here all year round.

There are a host of cafes, bars and restaurants on Middle Street (one of three main streets on the island, the others being Front, and Back – even this geographically challenged person struggled to get lost). The Art Cafe does what it can to benefit the community, only hiring single mothers from the island; the owner also donates reading glasses to those in need.

The menu here befits the water sports lifestyle – great plates of pancakes, stacked sausage and egg rolls, nourishing salads and a huge coffee menu. Somewhat understimating the portions, I had enough to keep me going for a week, perfect fuel for a day of encountering turtles, sharks, rays and manatees in Caye Caulkers crystal waters.

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Slightly over ordered…

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Hostel El Portal, Semuc Champey, Guatemala

Having walked across the border from Belize to Guatemala, we found ourselves inadvertently employing two kids straight out of Central America’s casting for Oliver! to find us a local bus to Lanquin. From here we took a pick-up truck to Semuc Champey, clinging on for dear life while trying to balance a mysterious crate of eggs on the seat beside me. This would be the first of many adventures in Semuc.

Next we signed ourselves up for the tour, a ‘must see’ according to the internet… Within an hour we were in chest-height cold water, gripping a wax candle in one hand as we picked our way through a set of caves in the national park. Adding to the adventure were metal ladders bound together with wet rope that scaled sharp-edged rock with little in the way of head room above, ‘slides’ into pitch black water and, best of all, a hole no wider than 2 foot from which we were encouraged to plunge from an unknown height into water of a mystery depth.

Next we would get in rubber donughts and head down river, comparitively relaxed other than the hoardes of children desperately paddling towards you in the hope of selling cold beer; that, and the need for the Egg Poacher to come and rescue me as my doughnut caught a light slip stream that took me way off course.

The following day was promised to be more relaxed, so we set about our breakfast at a leisurely pace. The menu is short as the kitchen at El Portal is small, but there were perfectly fine plates of pancakes and fresh fruit and OK coffee, too. The view is spectacular, with mist-covered mountains providing the backdrop to the fast-flowimg river I’d become so familiar with the day before.

Heading back to the park we set off on a light hike – to be met with sheer drops of clay-covered rocks, suspicious looking stairways and nests of tree roots lining our way. Once at the top, the view was undeniably spectacular. The route down, however, slippier than the ascent.

Finally at the turquoise pools, a cooling dip was our promised reward. However, first there were algae-covered rocks to step manoeuvre, some exciting ‘challenges’ such as the solid rock slide into deep-ish water, and a cave visit where water reached our noses and there was no more than two inches of space above our heads. Finally free to explore at our own pace, we didn’t stay long – instead heading back for a much needed lie down.

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Chilakillers, Escandon, Mexico City

There seemed no better way to get to grips with our arrival in Mexico City than to head straight for the local brunch spot. Our hosts, Kerry & Bernie, had mentioned Chilakillers the night before, so armed with our directions (‘left out the front door and forward 100 yards’) we set off in search of our first Mexican feed.

Chilakillers is hard to miss. The frontage matches the interiors, in that all the colours, patterns and icons you can imagine jump out, all at once to capture you as you pass by. Skeletons in top hats mingle with Yoda Christmas lights, an empirious golden lion and a bird cage full of plastic tigers. There are bright murals on the walls, including Frida Kahlo smoking a cigar, and skull plant pots that add the only semblance of a general Dia de los Muertos theme. To add to the chaos, pop and rock music blares, apparently trying to drown out the traffic noise coming from the msin freeway just outside. It seems to capture the essence of Mexico City itself: vibrant, loud and a whole lot of fun.

And so to the menu. With our basic Spanish we manage to point to the Chilakillers we’re after – chicken and green salsa for the Egg Poacher, chorizo and mole for me. Feeling pretty pleased with ourselved we sit back and survey the scene; pleased, that is, until EP’s Americano comes back as a glass of orange juice and my glass of water is a long drink of…something. Nonetheless, the staff are lovely and soon bringing great stacks of fried tortilla chips, kidney beans and cheese, replete with the toppings we were hoping for. We’re relieved we opt for the ‘media’ option, as the ‘complete’ may have seen us off before the trip had properly started.

As it turns out, it’s an excellent start – the perfect fuel for a days’ getting lost in Mexico City.

Price: Chilakillers from $65 MX.



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The Pimenta Spice Garden, Kochi, Kerala

Having been immersed in the fascinating, sense-assaulting chaos of Mumbai for a couple of days, it was both with sadness and relief that I alighted the Netravati Express train that was to take me all the way to tropical Kerala. The journey was one of the highlights of my trip; I loved the teeth-tingling sweetness of chai and the delicious vegetarian curries brought to your berth, and being knee-to-knee with your fellow travellers meant I met a host of locals, all of whom were keen to share their tips for travel and to know more about the cold country I’d come from. And, the journey brought me to another highlight – a one-week vegetarian cookery course at The Pimenta Spice Garden in Muvattapuzha, Kochi, where this amateur yet enthusiastic chef was put through her paces.

My host was Jacob Mathew, a quietly confident cook, guide and historian who not only taught me how to make dishes such as kovakka peera pattichathu (gourd with spices, curry leaves and tamarind), fresh paneer and mung dhal curry, but introduced me to the locals and took me on a tour of the nearby plantations, markets and factories. Jacob also brought some of the best breakfasts of my month away. He’s passionate about well-sourced food, and you don’t get fewer food miles when the coffee and pineapples come from your very own homestead. From the markets came fresh papaya, passion fruit and melon, and eggs from neighbourhood hens were whipped up into nicely salty omelettes by Madhu, Jacob’s highly skilled and softly spoken “kitchen fairy”. Delicious and simple, this breakfast was a perfect introduction to the tropical bounty you can find in Kerala, and a wonderful way to start a day of culinary adventuring, market shopping and wrestling chapatti dough into submission. It’s not cheap, but being firmly off the tourist trail means you’ll see parts of the state you might miss otherwise. Worth every penny.

Price: 82, 500 Rs (double)&  59, 400 Rs (single) for the week-long course. 3-day courses and bespoke trips available on request.

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JK Regency Hotel, Mumbai, India

Finding yourself stranded at Mumbai airport at 1am – having discovered that the taxi and hotel room you booked are no longer available to you – is not the most auspicious way to start a solo trip around the south of India. A fat, nicotine-coloured moon made little impact on a fog-strewn night as I stood, pale and sweating, in the car park with a look of “what now?” on my face. All guide books, locals and airport staff will advise you not to get a taxi that you haven’t booked, and certainly not taken to an unknown hotel in the centre of the city’s Northern district without someone knowing where you’re going. Which was, of course, exactly what I did. While my taxi driver enquired after my boyfriend (and I hastily made up a false engagement and a Thor-like countenance), he weaved the car through impossibly narrow streets past the slums that circle the runways. It was a truly filmic sight, with stray dogs slinking around piles of garbage and men hauling Hindu icons from a covered van into a darkened building.

Eventually we reached the rather grandly named JK Regency Hotel, though I soon discovered the only lordly aspect was the price. My room was above the restaurant and imbibed with an aroma of old cooking oil, the sheets displayed evidence of previous guests and the bathroom hosted a family of mosquitos under a dripping, broken shower head. In such surroundings it wasn’t hard to make an early start to the day, though not – of course – without breakfast. Wary of being too adventurous I ordered toast with jam and a masala tea. Which was, in fairness, what I got. The tea was hot but peppered with floating miscellany, and in a feat of culinary genius the toast was solid and dry with a distinctive methane after taste. An inauspicious start indeed, but one that would make me very grateful for the culinary delights that were to come.

Price: too much. Breakfast not included (or recommended).


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